


for love of the republic

by shanlyrical



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Developing Relationship, M/M, Planet Naboo (Star Wars), Post-Star Wars: The Phantom Menace, Vaapad, minor references to Legends canon, slightly creepy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-04
Updated: 2018-08-04
Packaged: 2019-05-28 11:37:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15048074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shanlyrical/pseuds/shanlyrical
Summary: “Lead the way, Chancellor,” says Mace.And Palpatine does.





	for love of the republic

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DoreyG](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoreyG/gifts).



> The first fic on this relationship tag! Hope you enjoy! ❤

On the Mid Rim planet of Naboo, in the capital city of Theed, at the heart of the Royal Palace, there is a small, walled garden.

The garden has been landscaped in the style of the High Classical Republican Period – like untrammeled nature, only more perfect. Soft grasses and elegant trees abound; flowering plants of a thousand different varieties waft their heady perfume; and the splash of fountains and the mating calls of insects and amphibians fill the heavy, humid air with beautiful music.

It is well past nightfall now, and most of the residents of the Palace are fast asleep. All is darkness. The Naboo are proud to shun artificial lighting in their gardens, for that would disturb the deep, circadian rhythms of the wildlife housed in them. So, yes. Amidst all this darkness, there is only…

…the violet glow of the lit plasma blade of a Jedi lightsaber.

Alone, in the middle of a secluded clearing, Jedi Master Mace Windu makes his first move.

He is one of the Order’s greatest living duelists, and in his youth he had worked to pioneer a variant of Form VII which many believed – some secretly, others not so secretly, and still others quite loudly indeed – to be heretical. Now, he is its sole, undisputed Master.

_The Sith…_

The darkness surrounds him; the darkness is his invisible, imaginary opponent; and the darkness is _within_ Mace as well. He takes that darkness and becomes its conduit, drawing it into himself, allowing it to surge and crest and flow through him, fill him…and then he channels it into his saber arm, his balletic footwork, the pure, kinetic energy of his every movement.

 _Always two, there are. No more, no less. They had survived for millennia, in secret, undetected, unbeknownst to we who have a responsibility to protect_ _and defend_ …

This is the dervish dance of Vaapad, so named after a creature whose limbs move so quickly that they may only be numbered after it is deceased and rendered still forevermore.

_Was the one who died here on Naboo the apprentice…or the Master?_

Mace twists and parries and thrusts at invisible enemies advancing upon him from all sides, his loose brown robes swirling around him, and he spins, bringing his blade around along with him in a vicious diagonal slash—

“Sheer magnificence! Bravo!”

Which comes to an abrupt stop less than a millimeter from the soft, vulnerable throat of Sheev Palpatine, former Senator of Naboo, current Supreme Chancellor of the Galactic Republic.

“Chancellor, my sincerest apologies,” says Mace as he pulls his lit saber back from Palpatine’s neck and holds it vertically, like a torch, to cast light on the proceedings, “I was lost in thought and did not sense your presence.”

Even though the violet glow does not flatter Palpatine’s pale complexion, he nonetheless looks surprisingly well-composed for a man who was practically decapitated by accident mere moments ago. “Please, Master Windu, do not concern yourself,” he says, his cultured voice calm, measured, reassuring. “The fault is entirely my own. I should not have crept up behind you like that. And I am afraid I may have been rather preoccupied by the extraordinary spectacle of your effortless athleticism,” he adds, shrugging, a rueful admission.

“Chancellor, you should not be out at night unaccompanied,” says Mace, ignoring the implied compliment, for he has realized that the Chanellor’s personal security contingent is nowhere to be seen and Palpatine himself is wearing little more than a thin dressing gown and bedroom slippers. “Although the Trade Federation has surrendered and agreed to vacate the sector, we do not know—”

“Ah, don’t be silly. If I’m not safe and sound whilst wandering about the grounds inside the Royal Palace of my own homeworld, nowhere in the galaxy is safe!”

Mace frowns. “At present, this is a genuine concern. We do not yet know if the Sith Lord on Naboo was the apprentice or the Mast—”

“But these ‘Sith’ are mere Jedi legends, Master Windu, surely!” interrupts Palpatine, waving a hand in unconcerned dismissal.

Mace’s frown deepens. He wishes to impress upon Palpatine the gravity of the matter. “No, Chancellor. The Sith are real, and they represent an existential threat to the Republic. They mean to bring about its downfall. If we are to preserve democracy, we _must_ fortify our defenses.”

“Hmm.” Palpatine shuffles his feet. He does not look interested in the subject, let alone convinced of its seriousness. To be honest, he looks more interested in Mace’s lightsaber.

And indeed he is. “Would you be so kind as to tell me, Master Windu, why your lightsaber is violet?” asks Palpatine, his tone signposting a deliberate change of subject. “Aren’t Jedi lightsabers normally blue or green?”

Mace is as much teacher by vocation as he is warrior and guardian, so he finds he cannot resist answering the query in some detail. “That is correct. The kyber crystals which power Jedi lightsabers are unoccluded, but the microscopic, Force-sensitive kyber symbionts which live inside the crystalline matrices produce blue or green colored plasma energy according to their particular subspecies when correctly activated.”

Mace pauses. He wants to steer the conversation back in the direction of the Sith and the danger to the Republic, and this topic of conversation is his chance. “The Sith – including the one slain here on Naboo – also use kyber crystals in their weaponry. But unlike the Jedi, who strive to act in harmony with the Force, the Sith actively manipulate the Force and twist it to their own ends. A blue or green kyber crystal glows red in the hands of a Sith because that Sith has tortured the symbionts within and made them ‘bleed’.”

Now comes the part of Vaapad’s secret which Mace does not usually deign to share. In this instance, however, he believes that he must disclose it to safeguard the Republic…and Palpatine as its elected Head of State. “My lightsaber blade has partially changed color from blue to violet because I too have learned how to channel the energies of the dark side. I walk the line, but I do not cross it. This is how I know the dark side – and the Sith – are real, Chancellor. The legends are not just legends to me. They are a part of my everyday, lived experience as a Jedi.”

“Hmm. How fascinating!” Mace can see from Palpatine’s narrowed eyes that he has succeeded in capturing his attention. Palpatine is regarding his lit lightsaber – and Mace himself – with newfound respect. Slowly, deliberately, he looks Mace up and down, appraising, admiring,  _appreciative_ , and Mace has to repress a sudden shiver. The fierce, animal pleasure he experiences beneath the weight of Palpatine’s gaze is intoxicating. This is the galaxy’s most powerful man, thinks Mace, and together, united by their love of the Republic, they could…could…could…

“I take your point,” says Palpatine at last. “Perhaps…” He looks suddenly bashful, and he rubs the spot on his neck where Mace’s saber nearly pierced him, a seemingly unconscious gesture of anxiety. “Perhaps we could retire to discuss these matters further in my private chambers? Would you be amenable to such an arrangement?”

Arousal shoots through Mace’s body, sharp and swift and searing as lightning. He would, he realizes. He would indeed. He reaches out to touch the spot that Palpatine was worrying. The flesh is soft and warm against his fingertips. He can feel Palpatine swallow convulsively.

“Lead the way, Chancellor,” says Mace.

And Palpatine does.


End file.
